


winter wishes

by you_get_to_exhale_now_cyrus



Series: tyrus drabbles (tumblr requests) [19]
Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst, Minor cursing, Snowball Fights, Winter Fics, also that snowflake thing just came to me, and i love them so muc, tyrus is soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_get_to_exhale_now_cyrus/pseuds/you_get_to_exhale_now_cyrus
Summary: tumblr prompt:“You. Me. Snowman. Now.”





	winter wishes

**Author's Note:**

> i'm just churning out winter fic after winter fic, huh? enjoy this one, it was super fun to write!

At precisely 5:34 AM, all the phones in the Goodman household starting ringing. Cyrus groaned, putting a pillow over his face before realizing what that meant. As quick as his tired body could manage, he leaned over and answered his phone.

“Hello, this is a prerecorded message from Jefferson Middle School. Tomorrow, there will be no school due to the weather. School will reconvene the following day,”

The other phones were turned off after a minute, followed by a string of complaints from his parents (”Why can’t they just send a text the night _before_ ,” he heard Norman grumble).

Sighing happily, he grabbed a blanket from the foot of his bed, wrapped it around himself, and padded towards his window. Was it a bad idea for him to be opening his window at 5:37 AM just to see some snowflakes? Probably. Did he do it anyways? Yes.

It was beautiful. Millions of white flecks dotting the sky as they hurried towards the ground. One landed on his finger, and he pressed it into his palm, allowing it to melt. Ever since he was a little kid, his parents had told him that all snowflakes were wishing opportunities. He pressed his palm to his heart and made his wish.

_I wish TJ would like me back._

* * *

The next time Cyrus woke up, it was almost nine o’clock. Morning sun rays spilled through his blinds, causing him to squint as he got up. His lawn, along with his neighbors’, was covered in a thick blanket of snow. The wheelbarrow that held leftover dirt was nowhere to be seen, probably engulfed by the snow. Beaming, he grabbed his phone and texted TJ.

**[Me]: did u see the snow??? its crazy**

He scrolled through some older conversations he’d had with the other boy, and they made his heart soar. He counted every heart emoji that TJ used (13 within the past few days), and every keyboard smash (30, again within the past few days).

**[TJ <3]: You. Me. Snowman. Now.**

**[TJ <3]: actually give me like 15 mins djfhsdjf**

Cyrus smiled, flopping back on his bed.

Thirty-one.

* * *

“Make sure you come inside when you get cold! I’ll have cocoa ready!”

“I will!”

Cyrus waddled out of the house in a thick parka, a scarf, a pair of bulky gloves, snow pants, a knitted hat, and boots. One wrong move and he’d go tumbling down and wouldn’t get back up.

“Hey, Underdog!” A familiar voice chirped, kicking some snow out of his way, “ready to make a snowma–what are you wearing?”

Cyrus rolled his eyes playfully. “Snow attire, something you are clearly not cultured in,” he pointed out. TJ sported a thin hoodie, with finger-less gloves and a beanie. Sneakers were where his boots should have been, and no snow pants were seen.

“How you wound me,” TJ sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart, “but seriously, you look like a store than ran out of mannequins, so they put every thing on one,”

Cyrus would have crossed his arms, but his jacket was too bulky, so he opted for putting them on his hips. “I came outside to build a snowman, not to be ridiculed for the fashion efforts of my parents,”

TJ put his hands up in mock defense. “Okay, okay, you got me. Now,” he took a breath, a silly grin splitting his face, “do you wanna build a snowman? C’mon let’s go and play,” he sung, flailing his arms dramatically in an attempt to dance.

It took a moment for Cyrus to process the sheer amount of cuteness before him, but when he finally came to his senses, he gave in to TJ’s singing.

“I never see you anymore, come out the door, it’s like you’ve gone away!” he continued, his voice cracking near the end, ducking his head.

“We can’t all be talented singers like me,” TJ commented, earning him a shove from Cyrus.

“What happened to building snowmen, Kippen?” Cyrus joked, narrowing his eyes.

“I’d rather just listen to you try to sing. It’s cute,” he replied smoothly, silently cursing himself for not bringing a scarf to hide his blush.

“…shut up,” Cyrus responded quietly, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“I’m serious,” TJ told him, grabbing a handful of snow from the ground and forming a little ball, “you look so cute when you-” he cut himself off, throwing the snowball at Cyrus and watching it fall apart, allowing it to dust his face.

“Hey, no fair! You can’t distract me like that! You didn’t even start a formal snowball fight!” Cyrus pouted, a few loose snowflakes falling from his eyelashes.

TJ shrugged, smirking at the shorter boy. “Life’s not fair, Underdog. You just gotta get used to it. And it hurts like hell sometimes, but you get the cards you’re dealt,”

“…are we still talking about snowball fights?” Cyrus asked, tugging at one end of his scarf.

TJ merely shrugged again, walking over to one of the benches the Goodmans had. “I mean,” he started, dusting off the seat so he could sit down, patting a seat for Cyrus, “sometimes I feel like the odds are stacked against me,”

Cyrus frowned, slipping off his gloves and shoving them inside his pockets. “Why do you say that?”

TJ scoffed, absentmindedly taking Cyrus’ hand in his. “Well, considering I’m gay, I feel like I’m starting at square negative five,” he mumbled.

Cyrus squeezed his hand. “Hey, we’re talked about this. It doesn’t matter what other people think about you. There are so many people that care about you and–”

“Wait,” he interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, “it gets worse because…shit, why is this so hard,” he grumbled, puffing out a breath of air.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Cyrus assured him, meeting TJ’s icy blue eyes with his warm brown ones.

“See that’s the thing, I can’t tell you. I can tell literally anybody _but_ you,” he sighed, releasing Cyrus’ hand and rubbing his temples.

Hurt. That’s how Cyrus felt. “Wh-how come you can’t tell me? But you can tell other people? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “I mean…sort of. Not on purpose,” he supplied, a frustrated breath coming out of his nose and creating a small white cloud.

Cyrus willed himself not to cry; it was too cold and he was worried that his tears would freeze. “..I’m sorry, I guess,” he whimpered, pressing his bare hands onto his eyes and rubbing at the furiously, “for whatever it is I did,” he muttered, standing up.

A few snowflakes landed in his hand, and he clenched it into a fist. _I wish TJ would tell me what’s wrong. I wish that whatever I did wrong I could correct_.

As if TJ could read his thoughts, he sprung to his feet. “There’s nothing you can to,” he started, bracing himself, “it’s not your fault that I fell for you,”

Silence. The worst sound of them all.

Cyrus glanced up at TJ, trying to meet his gaze, but the boy’s eyes were shut tight. “…like-”

“I like you, dammit,” TJ huffed, opening his eyes and kicking at the snow under his feet, “and you make it so hard for me not to do so. Every time you hold my hand, or tell me that I’m enough, or cheer me on at my basketball games, I just fall harder and harder. And I sucks, because yeah, I know you like guys, but why on _earth_ would you like this guy,” he pointed to himself, sighing dejectedly.

“TJ,” Cyrus began, taking his scarf off and placing it around TJ’s neck so he could still pull on the edges. He tugged him closer, nearly stumbling over his boots that were too big for him.

“I like you too…dammit,” he whispered, a tiny breath of moisture appearing between them. Giving the scarf one last tug, he pressed his lips against TJ’s eliciting a squeak from the taller boy.

Cyrus could audibly hear TJ take in a breath after they pulled back. His cheeks were a deep shade of red, and that was definitely not only because of the weather.

“Wow,” he murmured, taking Cyrus’ hand and intertwining their fingers, “I can get used to that,”

Cyrus smiled warmly, nodding over to his house and beckoning for TJ to follow. “Me too,” he replied.

As they walked, a few snowflakes accumulated in Cyrus’ free hand. He almost made another few wishes, but he took a look to his right. Seeing TJ there, holding his hand, and smiling because he was happy to be with Cyrus, he wiped his hand on his snow pants. He didn’t need any wishes; he had everything he ever wanted right here.

**Author's Note:**

> mwah! a kiss for tyrus <3 what did you think? leave a comment, i reply to each one!
> 
> like, comment, and stay docious magocious!!


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